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Introduction

Saint Nicolas, putative Bishop of Myra, is better known to us as Santa Claus. He flourished during the fourth century but is one of those medieval saints whose shadowy existence is more legend than fact. Though his cult was well established by the sixth century, it seems that we have Methodius’s fictitious ninth-century biography to thank for crediting him with his many miracles, and perhaps with most of his good deeds too.

Methodius, no doubt anxious to add perfume to the odour of his hero’s sanctity, was at pains to emphasize the incidence of the number three (the holy number) in Nicolas’s legend. By his gift of three bags of gold to three impoverished girls to save them from prostitution he became patron of unmarried girls, and also, coincidentally, of pawnbrokers, for this story is the origin of the three gold balls that are the pawnbrokers’ insignia. He is credited with saving three men from an unjust death; and the rescue of three drowning sailors off the coast of Turkey made him patron saint of sailors. But not the least of his holy works is the one which made Nicolas the protector of children and most beloved of saints—the restoration to life of three little boys pickled in brine by a vicious butcher in time of famine. In addition to these diverse patronages Nicolas is also the protector of merchants, perfumiers, and apothecaries.

During the eleventh and twelfth centuries his cult was particularly strong in England. Anselm and Godric composed prayers to him, and Godric set his to music. Though the cult of saints went into decline following the Reformation, Nicolas’s survived and he became transmogrified by his association with Christmas and the giving of presents to deserving children into the universal Santa Claus.

Nicolas’s association with boys and merchants made him the perfect choice of subject when, in 1948, Lancing College celebrated its centenary and asked Benjamin Britten to write something specially for the occasion. Peter Pears, a one-time pupil of the College, probably had something to do with securing the commission. Eric Crozier, already associated with Britten as producer of The Rape of Lucretia and librettist of Albert Herring, furnished the text of what turned out to be the composer’s first important work for children’s voices. Crozier selected eight episodes from Nicolas’s story—his prodigious piety at birth, his call to the holy life, his saving of the sailors on his way to Palestine, his election to the bishopric of Myra, his imprisonment under Diocletian, his restoration to life of the three boys and other marvellous deeds, and finally his tranquil joy in the face of death. And Britten, no doubt aware of Nicolas’s kindness to unmarried girls, drew on the services of a girls’ choir (albeit modestly distanced) to augment the boys’ voices. At the first performance, which actually took place at the Aldeburgh Festival and not at Lancing, the Lancing boys were joined by choirs from Ardingly, St Michael’s and Hurstpierpoint Schools. The solo tenor part representing Nicolas was sung, naturally enough, by Pears. The instrumental accompaniment, designed to remain within the compass of what a school could provide and accomplished players comfortably manage, consists of piano duet, strings, percussion (not immediately used) and organ.

Peter Evans, in his book about the composer, has made a comprehensive analysis of Saint Nicolas, drawing our attention to the many ingenious devices by which Britten knits together what superficially appear to be simple, sometimes naive, ideas, making out of them a pièce d’occasion which E M Forster described as ‘one of those triumphs outside the rules of art’.

Is everything as faultless, though, as Forster’s tribute might suggest? The fugal section of the fifth movement could be thought over-extended and rather limp, and though the incorporation of a well-known hymn, ‘The Old Hundredth’ (‘All people that on earth do dwell’), has a distinguished pedigree going back to the cantatas of Bach and gives the audience something to get its teeth into, it comes with a bit of a jolt. On the credit side the storm music of the fourth movement, achieved by relatively simple means, is typical Britten and highly effective, and the choral setting of the Nunc dimittis in counterpoint to the tenor solo as Nicolas looks forward to meeting God is inspired. Here the music modulates with effortless ingenuity and might have seemed slick had it not been of such transparent loveliness. But the magic is disappointingly diffused by the appearance of a second ‘chorale’, the hymn ‘God moves in a mysterious way’. Despite the gloss Britten has put upon its mundane harmonies, this, coming as the climax to the work, seriously threatens the emotional climate created earlier.

Recordings

Two of Benjamin Britten’s greatest Christmas choral works are performed by the choir of Trinity College Cambridge and Stephen Layton. The cantata Saint Nicolas tells the story of the saint and his exploits, and features one of the composer’s celeb ...» More

Chorus: Our eyes are blinded by the holiness you bear. The bishop’s robe, the mitre and the cross of gold Obscure the simple man within the Saint. Strip off your glory, Nicolas, and speak!

Nicolas: Across the tremendous bridge of sixteen-hundred years I come to stand in worship with you As I stood among my faithful congregation long ago. All who knelt beside me then are gone. Their name is dust, their tombs are grass and clay, Yet still their shining seed of faith survives In you! It weathers time, it springs again In you! With you it stands like forest oak Or withers with the grasses underfoot. Preserve the living Faith for which your fathers fought! For Faith was won by centuries of sacrifice And many martyrs died That you might worship God.

Chorus: Help us, Lord! to find the hidden road That leads from love to greater Love, from faith To greater Faith. Strengthen us, O Lord! Screw up our strength to serve Thee with simplicity.

Chorus: Our eyes are blinded by the holiness you bear. The bishop’s robe, the mitre and the cross of gold Obscure the simple man within the Saint. Strip off your glory, Nicolas, and speak!

Nicolas: Across the tremendous bridge of sixteen hundred years I come to stand in worship with you As I stood among my faithful congregation long ago. All who knelt beside me then are gone. Their name is dust, their tombs are grass and clay, Yet still their shining seed of faith survives In you! It weathers time, it springs again In you! With you it stands like forest oak Or withers with the grasses underfoot. Preserve the living Faith for which your fathers fought! For Faith was won by centuries of sacrifice And many martyrs died That you might worship God. Chorus Help us, Lord! to find the hidden road That leads from love to greater Love, from faith To greater Faith. Strengthen us, O Lord! Screw up our strength to serve Thee with simplicity.

Nicolas: My parents died. All too soon I left the tranquil beauty of their home And knew the wider world of man. Poor man! I found him solitary, racked By doubt: born, bred doomed to die In everlasting fear of everlasting death: The foolish toy of time, the darling of decay— Hopeless, faithless, defying God.

Heartsick, in hope to mask The twisted face of poverty, I sold my lands to feed the poor. I gave my goods to charity But Love demanded more.

Heartsick, I cast away All things that could distract my mind From full devotion to His will. I thrust my happiness behind But Love desired more still.

Heartsick, I called on God To purge my angry soul, to be My only Master, friend and guide. I begged for sweet humility And Love was satisfied.

Waves repeat their angry roar, Fall and spring again once more! Let her run before the wind! Shorten sail! Reef her! Heave her to!

Thunder rends the sky asunder With its savage shouts of wonder! Ah! Pray to God! Kneel and pray! Lightning, Thunder, Tempest, Ocean Praise their God with voice and motion.

Nicolas waited patiently, Till they were on their knees, Then down he knelt in thankfulness Begging God their ship to bless And make the storm to cease.

Nicolas: O God! we are all weak, sinful, foolish men. We pray from fear and from necessity at death, in sickness or private loss. Without the prick of fear our conscience sleeps, forgetful of Thy Grace.

Help us, O God! to see more clearly. Tame our stubborn hearts. Teach us to ask for less and offer more in gratitude to Thee. Pity our simplicity, for we are truly pitiable in Thy sight. Amen.

The winds and waves lay down to rest, The sky was clear and calm. The ship sailed onward without harm And all creation sang a psalm Of loving thankfulness.

Beneath the stars the sailors slept Exhausted by their fear, while I Knelt down for love of God on high And saw His angels in the sky Smile down at me, And wept, wept, and wept.

Waves repeat their angry roar, Fall and spring again once more! Let her run before the wind! Shorten sail! Reef her! Heave her to!

Thunder rends the sky asunder With its savage shouts of wonder! Ah! Pray to God! Kneel and pray! Lightning, Thunder, Tempest, Ocean Praise their God with voice and motion.

Nicolas waited patiently, Till they were on their knees, Then down he knelt in thankfulness Begging God their ship to bless And make the storm to cease.

Nicolas: O God! we are all weak, sinful, foolish men. We pray from fear and from necessity at death, in sickness or private loss. Without the prick of fear our conscience sleeps, forgetful of Thy Grace.

Help us, O God! to see more clearly. Tame our stubborn hearts. Teach us to ask for less and offer more in gratitude to Thee. Pity our simplicity, for we are truly pitiable in Thy sight. Amen.

The winds and waves lay down to rest, The sky was clear and calm. The ship sailed onward without harm And all creation sang a psalm Of loving thankfulness.

Beneath the stars the sailors slept Exhausted by their fear, while I Knelt down for love of God on high And saw His angels in the sky Smile down at me, And wept, wept, and wept.

Nicolas waited patiently Till they were on their knees: Then down he knelt in thankfulness Begging God their ship to bless And make the storm to cease.

Nicolas: O God! We are all weak, sinful, foolish men. We pray from fear and from necessity— At death, in sickness or private loss. Without the prick of fear our conscience sleeps, Forgetful of Thy Grace.

Help us, O God! To see more clearly. Tame our stubborn hearts. Teach us to ask for less And offer more in gratitude to thee. Pity our simplicity, For we are truly pitiable in Thy sight.

Chorus: Amen.

Nicolas: The winds and waves lay down to rest, The sky was clear and calm. The ship sailed onward without harm And all creation sang a psalm Of loving thankfulness.

Beneath the stars the sailors slept Exhausted by their fear, while I Knelt down for love of God on high And saw His angels in the sky Smile down at me—and wept.

Movement 5: Nicolas comes to Myra and is chosen Bishop
Come, stranger sent from God!

Nicolas: I Nicolas, Bishop of Myra and its diocese, Shall with the unfailing grace of God, Defend His faithful servants, Comfort the widow and fatherless, And fulfil His will for this most blessed Church.

Chorus: Amen. Place the mitre on your head to show your mastery of men! Take the golden robe that covers you with Christ’s authority! Wear the fine dalmatic woven with the Cross of Faith. Bear the crozier as a staff and comfort to your flock! Set the ring upon your hand in sacramental sign of wedlock with thy God! Serve the Faith and spurn His enemies!

Congregation: All people that on earth do dwell, Sing to the Lord with cheerful voice! Him serve with fear, His praise forth tell, Come ye before Him and rejoice.

O enter then His gates with praise, Approach with joy His courts unto, Praise, laud and bless His name always, For it is seemly so to do.

For why? the Lord our God is good: His mercy is for ever sure; His truth at all times firmly stood, And shall from age to age endure. Amen.

Nicolas: I Nicolas, Bishop of Myra and its diocese, Shall with the unfailing grace of God, Defend His faithful servants, Comfort the widow and fatherless, And fulfil His will for this most blessed Church.

Chorus: Amen. Place the mitre on your head to show your mastery of men! Take the golden robe that covers you with Christ’s authority! Wear the fine dalmatic woven with the Cross of Faith. Bear the crozier as a staff and comfort to your flock! Set the ring upon your hand in sacramental sign of wedlock with thy God! Serve the Faith and spurn His enemies!

Congregation: All people that on earth do dwell, Sing to the Lord with cheerful voice! Him serve with fear, His praise forth tell, Come ye before Him and rejoice.

O enter then His gates with praise, Approach with joy His courts unto, Praise, laud and bless His name always, For it is seemly so to do.

For why? the Lord our God is good: His mercy is for ever sure; His truth at all times firmly stood, And shall from age to age endure. Amen.

Nicolas: I, Nicolas, Bishop of Myra and its diocese, Shall with the unfailing grace of God Defend His faithful servants, Comfort the widow and fatherless, And fulfil His will for this most blessed Church.

Chorus: Amen! Place the mitre on your head to show your mastery of men! Amen! Take the golden robe hat covers you with Christ’s authority! Amen! Wear the fine dalmatic woven with the cross of faith! Amen! Bear the crozier as a staff and comfort to your flock! Amen! Set the ring upon your hand, in sacramental sign of wedlock with thy God! Amen! Serve the Faith and spurn His enemies!

Chorus and Congregation: All people that on earth do dwell, Sing to the Lord with cheerful voice! Him serve with fear, His praise forth tell, Come ye before Him and rejoice.

O enter then His gates with praise, Approach with joy His courts unto; Praise, laud and bless His name always, For it is seemly so to do.

For why? the Lord our God is good: His mercy is for ever sure; His truth at all times firmly stood, And shall from age to age endure.

Nicolas: Persecution sprang upon our Church And stilled its voice. Eight barren years it stifled under Roman rule: And I lay bound, condemned to celebrate My lonely sacrament with prison bread, While wolves ran loose among my flock. O man! the world is set for you as for a king! Paradise is yours in loveliness. The stars shine down for you, for you the angels sing, Yet you prefer your wilderness. You hug the rack of self, Embrace the lash of sin, Pour your treasures out to bribe distress. You build your temples fair without and foul within: You cultivate your wilderness. Yet Christ is yours. Yours! For you He lived and died. God in mercy gave His son to bless you all, To bring you life, And Him you crucified To desecrate your wilderness. Turn away from sin! Ah! bow Down your hard and stubborn hearts! Confess, yourselves to Him in penitence And humbly vow your lives to Him, to holiness.

Nicolas: Persecution sprang upon our Church And stilled its voice. Eight barren years it stifled under Roman rule: And I lay bound, condemned to celebrate My lonely sacrament with prison bread, While wolves ran loose among my flock. O man! the world is set for you as for a king! Paradise is yours in loveliness. The stars shine down for you, for you the angels sing, Yet you prefer your wilderness. You hug the rack of self, Embrace the lash of sin, Pour your treasures out to bribe distress. You build your temples fair without and foul within: You cultivate your wilderness. Yet Christ is yours. Yours! For you He lived and died. God in mercy gave His son to bless you all, To bring you life, And Him you crucified To desecrate your wilderness. Turn away from sin! Ah! bow Down your hard and stubborn hearts! Confess, yourselves to Him in penitence And humbly vow your lives to Him, to holiness.

Nicolas: Persecution sprang upon our Church And stilled its voice. Eight barren years it stifled under Roman rule: And I lay bound, condemned to celebrate My lonely sacrament with prison bread, While wolves ran loose among my flock.

O man! The world is set for you as for a king! Paradise is yours in loveliness. The stars shine down for you, for you the angels sing, Yet you prefer your wilderness.

You hug the rack of self, embrace the lash of sin, Pour your treasures out to pay distress. You build your temples fair without and foul within: You cultivate your wilderness.

Yet Christ is yours. Yours! For you he lived and died. God in mercy gave his Son to bless You all, to bring you life—and Him you crucified To desecrate your wilderness.

Turn away from sin! Ah! bow Down your hard and stubborn hearts! Confess Yourselves to Him in penitence, And humbly vow Your lives to Him, to Holiness.

Movement 7: Nicolas and the pickled boys
Famine tracks us down the lanes

Nicolas: Death, I hear thy summons and I come In haste, for my short life is done; And O! my soul is faint with love, For Him who waits for me above.

Lord I come to life, to final birth I leave the misery of earth, For light, by Thy eternal grace, Where I shall greet Thee face to face.

Christ, receive my soul with tenderness, For in my last of life I bless Thy name, Who lived and died for me, And dying, yield my soul to Thee.

Chorus: Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant Depart in peace, according to Thy word. For mine eyes have seen Thy salvation Which Thou hast prepared before the face of all people To be a light to lighten the Gentiles And to be the glory of Thy people Israel.

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, And to the Holy Ghost. As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be World without end. Amen!

Congregation: God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform; He plants His footsteps in the sea, And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines Of never failing skill He treasures up His bright designs, And works his sovereign will.

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take, The clouds ye so much dread Are big with mercy, and shall break In blessings on your head. Amen.

Nicolas: Death, I hear thy summons and I come In haste, for my short life is done; And O! my soul is faint with love, For Him who waits for me above.

Lord I come to life, to final birth I leave the misery of earth, For light, by Thy eternal grace, Where I shall greet Thee face to face.

Christ, receive my soul with tenderness, For in my last of life I bless Thy name, Who lived and died for me, And dying, yield my soul to Thee.

Chorus: Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant Depart in peace, according to Thy word. For mine eyes have seen Thy salvation Which Thou hast prepared before the face of all people To be a light to lighten the Gentiles And to be the glory of Thy people Israel.

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, And to the Holy Ghost. As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be World without end. Amen!

Congregation: God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform; He plants His footsteps in the sea, And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines Of never failing skill He treasures up His bright designs, And works his sovereign will.

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take, The clouds ye so much dread Are big with mercy, and shall break In blessings on your head. Amen.

Nicolas: Death, I hear thy summons and I come In haste, for my short life is done; And O! my soul is faint with love For him who waits for me above.

Lord, I come to life, to final birth. I leave the misery of earth For Light, by Thy eternal grace, Where I shall greet Thee face to face.

Christ, receive my soul with tenderness, For in my last of life I bless Thy name, who lived and died for me, And dying, yield my soul to Thee.

Chorus: Lord, now lettest thou Thy servant Depart in peace, according to Thy word. For mine eyes have seen Thy salvation Which Thou has prepared before the face of all people To be a light to lighten the Gentiles And to be the glory of Thy people Israel.

Glory be to the Father, And to the Son, And to the Holy Ghost! As it was in the beginning, Is now, and ever shall be: World without end. Amen!

Chorus and Congregation: God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform; He plants His footsteps in the sea, And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines Of never-failing skill He treasures up His bright designs, And works His sovereign will.

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take, The clouds ye so much dread Are big with mercy, and shall break In blessings on your head. Amen!